


Where is Camelot?(Merlin/OC)

by Cumberbatchheylovehim



Series: Merlin and Clemence [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bradley James - Freeform, Colin Morgan - Freeform, F/M, Love Story, Merlin bbc - Freeform, Merthur - Freeform, merlin/oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5925715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cumberbatchheylovehim/pseuds/Cumberbatchheylovehim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Also published on Quotev under the same name*<br/>How the world turns from castles and beautiful gardens, to small flats, traffic lights and the well known hubbub of the London town. Time and tide wait for no man, so how time passes all of them will be perished away from the beautiful vegetation of medieval England and will be thrown into the sheer clutter of modern England, some remembering who they were and some completely clueless of how they actually got there... The whole world suddenly turns around one important person, his name, Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To the last

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write something that has been on my mind lately, I hope that you will like it. I do not own the characters save a few that I took the liberty of putting in my story.

_[Clutter](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5ifi6jHc41qaq4ego6_250.gif) _

_[Destruction](https://49.media.tumblr.com/fbce74a1f742180a064d9e01de79b71e/tumblr_n56eh1baZK1sbmz30o1_400.gif) _

~~_[Time passes in the constant state](https://49.media.tumblr.com/fa2e8be1d91caaab5e05db5f5f9c3323/tumblr_nd59d1peaW1s589lho1_500.gif)_ ~~

"Clemence!" the words pried away from his soar and raspy throat, while the breath departed away from his mouth alike fog and levitated in the night sky. He held his crossbow tightly inside of his sweaty grip while his breathing became heavier and heavier; the blood was leaking from the wound into the lower portion of his abdomen, it presented him a most agitating pain but he simply couldn't do anything else save ignore it and proceed defending the castle, or what was left of it. His vision became more vague within every moment; the sweat ran down his forehead, cold one had embraced his entire body, his extremities were burning hot inside of the armor that was clutching his slim body, but despite that, he could feel a great lump of ice inside of his aching soul. As though someone had grasped his heart within their strong paw and was slowly, painfully squeezing the life out of him, until he was drained and breathed no more. Hot tears were pecking the edges of his irritated eyes, his trembling mouth could no longer form any orders, he couldn't find a heart to utter anything at all, knowing that the mere thing would be simply irrelevant, for it was all over...He was beaten, his people murdered, his legacy burned to bits, he lay there, defenseless watching the great fires perish everything his father and his predecessors fought to embellish and create. The screams of the innocent deafened him, the cries of the children threw him on his knees, praying to whatever force was among to aid him, while he knew that his soul already burned along those who fell.  
He noticed his sister's long hair swaying into the rhythm of the nocturnal wind, while she ran to his aid, endeavoring to avoid the great throng of dead bodies and burning chasms, her wretched countenance red and covered with the most explicit expression of fear. She knelled beside him, her eyes widened when she noticed his fingers covered into the dark red dip; he felt her hand among his that rested over the wound, with the other she removed the sweat away from his shiny countenance. He closed his eyes under the tender feeling of her touch, for he knew that it was their last shared moment of tenderness and it broke his heart; he knew that the time had come, for if he wanted to preserve what was last of him, he needed to ensure her safety. Her safety lay away from him, somewhere in the greater abyss of the unknown...  
"You must be on your way" his bloody paw rested upon her countenance, holding it tightly.  
"Wherefore my brother? I shall not abandon you" she grasped his hand inside of hers, while her face was lit with a new wave of fear and despair. A tear strolled down brave Doran's cheek, his warm, dark brown eyes, mildly looked at his little sister; he pulled her closer and pasted a kiss among her forehead, held her inside of his cold embrace just like he did when with his adolescent hands he accepted her petite body when she was a small baby. Her hands tightly gripped around him, they detached towards him as if they didn't wish to ever let go; every single day of her life she drew strength from those beautiful eyes, as murky as the darkest nights in the coldest of winters, she found it difficult to imagine that such catastrophe would ever pry her away from her brother's side. And still, she watched as her worse nightmare revolved in front of her own, exhausted eyes and perished her felicity and everything she ever vouched for, away from her sight.  
"You must! The last of his majesty's legacy must be kept sole! That legacy is you Clemence, you must remain living!"  
"No!" she ceased when her brother used his entire force to reason with her, grasping her face tightly between his weak palms. She had never seen that dreadful mixture of despair and fear inside of those pupils she always found joyfully facing her, she had never seen her brother into that appalling state whence he had lost all his hope. She was wont of his acts of pure valor and his wise reasoning; he was a man who always possessed a proper plan and executed everything until the finest detail. What she saw was a pallid replica, an exhausted warrior drifting towards his ensure demise and the mere knowledge gave her a great sense of agitation inside of her; she wished she had enough power to vanquish those blasted rouges who dared to protrude and recreate the very sights of hell, where heaven used to vigil. That face, the face of the woman whose glimmering eyes were the source of the fires which besieged them, was the damnation that she was never to forget; she had sworn that one day that sneer was to be washed away from it and replaced with an equally hopeless expression like the one she saw on her brother's countenance the day she lost it all.  
"Promise me that you will stand up and walk away! Just now, without turning around, you will run and never look back at this hell." he silenced her once again when she began to protest. "I beg you now, my dear sister, to never take any revenge, for revenge is what brought us to this verge." he paused withdrawing his strength and breath, for he scarcely had any inside of his lifeless body  
"Remain pure and amiable as you were, never throw rocks at those who give you bread." he proceeded through the thick veil of his sobs that had blurred his sight even more.  
"Promise me that one day you shall return and create a new life in here, with someone worth your love and worth the new throne you will set" he finished, his thumb caressing her wet cheek, the tears were streaming like waterfalls from her eyes, as her hand crawled back over her brother's cold ones.  
"My place is by your side, Doran, you cannot tell me to leave you, you're dying!"  
"And you will die as well if you remain here" he interrupted her vigorously. "You will leave Clemence, I shall invest my last forces to send you away from this infernal place!" he loudly shouted, he was to say more but his words were cut, as was his head; it rolled over the muddy path in front of its murderer's legs, while the fresh blood 'embellished' the dull surface of the blade with all its shades and tones of dark red. His cold-blooded eyes were centered at the appalled expression of the youth, her mouth creating an opaque shape while looking at her brother's derived head; despite her clouded sight she could still see the ruffian approach her. In a sheer manner of her absence, he was sent flying away by some sort of an undefined force of wind that emerged and embraced her within its chilling arms. The blaze hit her strongly everything about her was twisting and turning into an unbelievable tempest , that she fell, hitting her head from the stoned path, the ghastly pictures of the massacre slowly fading away from before her dazzled eyes; someone wrapped their hands around her and lifted her within their strong grasp. The last thing she saw before entirely losing grip of her vision, were the pallid countenance and those radiant, blue eyes of the last person she ever expected to be her savior.

[*.*](http://38.media.tumblr.com/ebe295f15dbe245ed0508b0b895c8a05/tumblr_nhtgibyH8z1rq7tplo6_500.gif)

_"Walk!"_ the voice exclaimed loudly, flogging one of the first participants of the long queue that hobbled after the moving cart. _Merlin_ dragged his weak legs along as well, the sound of his chattering teeth was larger than the mere rattle of the cart, he could no longer feel his bruised out and cold hands, his throat was sore, desperately in a need of water: a supply they was rarely ever given the chance to possess. _Arthur_ was beside him, plotting his plan of a cunning escape which was supposed to be finished three days before their paths 'accidentally' crossed with those of the Saxons and the slaves they dragged along, _somewhere_ ; now they were enslaved as well, forced to walk on the blazing cold, while their hungry stomachs rumbled, begging for a bit of bread. The sole 'positive' thing was they were never flogged by the angry Saxon who fancied screaming in people's ears, while probably the worst thing was that which brought great agitation to Merlin and simply derived him from the brinks of sanity, despite the fact he didn't allow it escape his brain.

He was often facing the dark, curly coils of the one person he couldn't help but look at with a great suspicion and probably newly formed hatred. He would find himself quickly glancing away when the said person's eyes would meet his, proceed with walking while his look would simply glare at the thick lumps of snow he passed on his way.

"What is that _woman_ doing there?" he heard Arthur speak, shaking him from his temporally captivating daydream. Merlin furrowed his eye brows.

"What woman? What are you talking about?" then he quickly tilted his head around, endeavoring to notice whatever was the subject of Arthur's sudden interest. In the middle of the many obese and feeble figures aligned in the 'human' chain that tattered after the cart, he noticed a tall, but yet skinny figure of a young woman, dressed in filthy rags, her long, ginger hair covering her face and chest. Her forearms were bare and covered in traces of blood and bruises, there was a long trail of blood remaining among the snow after her, which indicated that she was dreadfully wounded. His lips created a small gasp, he didn't realize that he inadvertently delayed the long queue, looking at the poor creature which barely even reminded of a human being with its skinny complexion and bones peeping out through the thin layer of pallid and bruised out skin.

"Walk, Merlin" Arthur warned him before he was seen by the irritating Saxon. "The last thing we need is him" he released a small nod with his head towards the Saxon holding his whip, with a fierce wish of flogging someone for no reason whatsoever "shouting at us" his eyes remained centering at the obese complexion of the ruffian before looking away. Merlin glanced behind him once again before looking back ahead; the youth looked like she hadn't been fed in days, probably months, he couldn't understand where she conveyed strength from, whence she was practically a walking corpse and her appearance gave chills to anyone who would simply dare to face her.

"What will _Morgana_ do with her?"

Arthur shrugged.

"I doubt that she will survive long enough for our to see"

His words brought a sudden feeling of uneasiness inside of Merlin's stomach; she looked so pitiful and appalling that it was obvious she was going to die sooner or later, for she probably possessed a lot of things that ailed her and there was nobody to tend to them.

"Arthur we must do something"

Arthur's eyes quickly centered at Merlin, creating a glare.

"Do you have anything else clever on your mind _Merlin_? After all, it is purely your doing that we are here now" he didn't hesitate to hiss angrily, drawing Merlin's frown to him immediately afterwards.

"Hey you! Shut up!"

The night quickly descended among their poor heads. The Saxons gathered around a fire they previously drew for themselves, lodging out the food and drinks that were inspected hungrily by the slave's eyes, the hunger visible upon their faces. Arthur was already dreaming of the apples and bread that Merlin would often treat him with, those which he so ardently threw at his head because he supposedly couldn't stand them, for they weren't meat-his favorite course. Now he knew that he was to devour anything even it being rotten and not apt enough for a _king_ , his stomach was making growling noises and Merlin's was no different, albeit he decided to neglect it, for there was something else engaging his mind. He noticed Mordred divide from the group, without them being aware of it and approach the young lady, whose figure was clutched into a ball into one lonely corner, away from the others. He carried bread within his grasp, and when he laid a hand above her shoulder she quickly strayed, as much as her wounded body allowed her, releasing a soft cry. A lump had nested inside of Merlin's throat while he watched the painful scene. After his attempts to give her the bread were futile, Mordred gave up and walked away, leaving the small half of the loaf next to her, the one which she eagerly pushed aside and then positioned herself into the same clutched manner. Moments later, Arthur was heavily asleep so Merlin excluded him from his dire venture, he slowly trailed off, between the many sleeping slaves which were left on the cold alike starving dogs to die out, crawled through the many lumps of snow until he reached the place where he could hear a soft cry.

"Shh" she felt shivers through her spine when his hand touched her forearm and hastily tilted her corpse-like head, facing him. A pair of blue-green eyes struck him while her shivering mouth was ready to cry out if he didn't cover it with his other hand.

"I can help you"

She quickly shook her head, while moving his hand away from her mouth gently.

"You cannot"

His eyes chased after Mordred's back and after they found it, ensuring that he was not looking, turned back towards the frightened youth. He placed his hand among her forehead and his other over the wound, closing his eyes. Her head fell backwards, while his hands created warmth that was slowly transforming into a burning sensation which brought an agony to her body shortly before it tamed the tempest, that evoked by the powerful forces of his magic, raged inside of her system. She closed her eyes, the vision of that first and probably last affable countenance she had seen after a longer time, was slowly fading, blending into the gray tonality of the gruesomely cold night.

"Sleep" the words divided from his lips alike a lullaby, the tone of his voice was tender and mesmerizing, his blue eyes were like the beautiful sky in the most refreshing day of summer. His hands were gentle and warm, his countenance was illuminated with bright lightening that somehow made it look sacred and special...[ _He was special_](http://49.media.tumblr.com/d001c755e110f27c4a0958742cf7cb49/tumblr_mj7ci0enVU1r4ocdmo10_500.gif)...


	2. Life round here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another part of the story...I hope you will like it...

_[Sunday](https://31.media.tumblr.com/85472e25b39c9af959d7cd4a103559c5/tumblr_inline_njdzsgvNBj1t67xom.gif), 7 am, [Morning](https://40.media.tumblr.com/9ef2de77fae770763405bb874bb87069/tumblr_n42qupacJj1sux21io1_500.png), somewhere in [London](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWF9i3Vzpac/TMp1d7iFOuI/AAAAAAAAA9I/hw4ulTCXpMk/s1600/London.gif), 2015_

_[Everything feels like touchdown on a rainy day...](http://33.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lv6bvbfp6e1r1yutvo1_500.gif) _

It was yet early to pry out of bed. Her eyes were dully looking at the ticking clock which was placed in one side of the small bedroom and eagerly counted the minutes. The mere thing didn't appear to be of any use, for the hours passed into a slower pace and irritated her more than it should have; the flat was cold, so she possessed no interest of leaving that warm nest whatsoever, the last bill was greater than the sum of money she possessed into her pocket, and when it wasn't paid the electricity slowly vanished...So did the ingredients in the fridge and the basic products for one's everyday need. She wouldn't admit that _their_ situation was dire, but then nothing indicated otherwise, _they_ were in a high need of social care. Neither she nor he were employed, neither she nor he knew how to find a job, as though they had flown from another _world_.

She snapped quickly when someone's hands tangled around her thin waist, while a blond, nearly golden colored head, peeped from underneath the covers, nuzzling closer towards her shoulder. Her hand slowly trailed upon their head, her lips creating a petty smile at the fully asleep young man that rested next to her.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he murmured into a hoarse tone. She shrugged.

"I suppose I cannot" she remarked, facing his half closed, blue eyes. "Sorry that I awoke you"

His sigh was barely audible but it was painful enough to create a lump inside of his sore throat and ail him with the itching need for water, albeit he knew that the mere thing wouldn't was away the problems he knew were abounding his _newly forged life on that newly forged English soil._

"The _raven-haired man_?"

She shook her head, her eye brows furrowing into a highly not-amused fashion.

"Why do you remind me of him _Arthur_? I thought that a morning had finally started without his interference inside of it, now look what you did" she pursued her lips, looking away.

It ailed him listening to her talk in such a manner of the only man who had ever embellished both of their lives mysteriously and suddenly vanished from thin air even more mysteriously. There wasn't a sole day that wasn't spent thinking of the _young servant boy_ whose care and love brought him back to life too many times when he was on the verge of an ensured downfall. _He missed him_ , more than he could ever imagine, he carried a great lump, an empty, drafty gap inside of his heart which ached and bitterly reminded him that there was an entire piece of him that had drifted away, somewhere in the distance, that was torn away and deliberately concealed somewhere he couldn't find.

Every morning he awakened with the pain of the heartbreak, whilst every single morning she awakened with the unknown pain of loss and the nightmares which were, really the images of her previous life, _the one they both magically eloped from_.

"Why do you fear him so?" Arthur whispered, the serenity inside of his eyes pierced like a dagger through hers, that it agitated her, which was why she turned her back at him and placed her hands underneath her cheek, her eyes looking at the curtain-less window from an acute angle.

"Because I don't know _who he is_ " she sighed before proceeding, " and because his presence is omitting more and more of the peace within me and I hate that"

Arthur's look was pasted upon her arched back, while his hand slowly relied upon her forearm. Every single day brought him to a new betrayal, despite the fact that his _real wife_ , was thousands of years away from him and he was probably never going to see her or touch her again, he found his presence into the life of the only relic that reminded him that he once existed somewhere and wasn't a walking shadow among the queer people, very crucial. The young lady whose back he faced at the moment wasn't anything to him save a reminder of his mistakes, he blamed his negligence for whatever misfortune befell her which was why she lived into his court and he, later on, made her his ward. It was a little repulsive now, that he could be found into her bed, half naked, that he could admit of touching her, if not entirely intimately...All of that was a betrayal to his marriage, to the one whose heart belonged to him and who had taken his heart forever.

As the days passed he managed to forget, if not entirely, of how repulsed he was in himself and how dreadful he felt because of his clutter of a life. Nothing was arranged, when he thought better, nothing ever was arranged into his life, his road was eternally uneven and scattered with all sorts of barriers which never allowed his days to be peaceful. He pitied the poor girl, who, despite their queer situation, remained as his ward; he was glad that she didn't remember some portions of her past, but it broke his heart to know that she couldn't remember the only man whom she loved with all her heart and soul.

He remembered, how content he was when she showed him the dark brown stuffed toy and the name she selected for it, _Merlin_. It indicated that she began to remember, that some of those times of pure felicity spent in Camelot by his side, were finally gracing her head and later on they would both, together descend into a fair search after _the lost servant boy with the lion heart_. But no, it was a small strike of lightening and nothing promising whatsoever, he was still alone and his speech was still limited, for he couldn't speak of what heaved among his heart and expect her resonance.

When he wasn't reminiscing about the past, he spent his days searching for the improbable. There was no Camelot, no Gwen, no Morgana, no Merlin, no knights to guard his back, he was completely alone and crushed on the ground like an ant. He had never felt that helpless, there was nobody to encourage him, the person from whom he drew strength was, for the first time, far away from him. The once and future king became a forgotten beggar into an unknown world where he saw nothing of what he expected to find...

There wasn't a sole existing trace of Merlin, an evidence that he existed in that word, or if he did of where he went. If he were alive, he probably thought that Arthur was dead and dreaded it, he probably lived in sheer adversity, he probably blamed himself for whatever occurred to all of them, he was probably all alone and wounded like that he hid somewhere where nobody would ever disturb him. Arthur was going to give his all to find his second half, because that was what Merlin was; nobody could replace what Merlin was for Arthur and what Arthur was for Merlin. They were inseparable and when the time decided to separate them, disaster ruined their lives; the modern man was a perfect machine, they spoke in a language that he couldn't understand, they did inexplicable things, they had a different perspective of beauty and many different interests which couldn't be compared to whatever Arthur found crucial in his time. They had the world within their grasp but they still couldn't find a sole grasp of time, they still couldn't explain why a human being always lost their battle with time...

Did they? Did they lose the battle with time or they managed to deceive it onto giving them a second chance somewhere unknown and mysterious?! For he still endeavored to understand whatever became of that small lump he called a world, where there was no place for Camelot and his round table.

"Perhaps he is someone you knew" his voice crept behind her, now fully awaken, he crawled closer towards her body, not moving his hand away from her forearm. She tilted her head, her blue-green eyes meeting his blue ones.

"Why do you _always_ say that Arthur?"

Arthur's eyes looked elsewhere while he tried to find an apt answer. Truth be told, he didn't have any.

"I'm simply making a suggestion."

She turned around.

"Well, your suggestion is not right, sorry"

 


End file.
